


Us Champions are Always Lonely, Aren’t We?

by CecilsUnstoppableGayness



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, but only in the second half, figure skating AU, i watched four episodes of yuri on ice and look what happebed, it’s gay, leto had a crappy relationship before this that we unpack a bit, lots of swears, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26314195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CecilsUnstoppableGayness/pseuds/CecilsUnstoppableGayness
Summary: When the famous but lonely figure skater Leto Kerlof sees a challenge set by a younger skater, he sees an opportunity to find what he’s been missing - and what he’s afraid to have.
Relationships: Leto/Tiergan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Us Champions are Always Lonely, Aren’t We?

“No, I’m not saying I want to quit.”  
“Well, what the fuck are you saying, then. Cause I really can’t tell.”  
“Tink-“ Leto pulled his irritable, read-headed coach around to face him. “What I want, all I’m asking for, is a challenge.”   
“A challenge.” Tink narrowed her eyes.  
“Yes! I’m bored.”  
“Bored!” Tink’s laugh buzzed with scorn.  
“You’re the best skater in the world-“  
“-debatable-“  
“-won gold last year, gold the year before that, silver before that, and you won nationals in your first season,”  
“-barely, I didn’t deserve it-“  
“-shut the fuck up you definitely deserved it-“  
“-okay but-“  
“-and you’re squared up to win another fucking gold, your third, with no competition whatsoever, and you say you’re bored”.  
“Yep, that is in fact what I’m saying.” Leto leaned against the streetlight while he waited for the signal. Tinker’s eyes caught on to his face like searchlights, and he looked back, a proud criminal under her gaze.  
“Well then I think you’re a spoiled old man.”  
“Hey!” He shoved her and escaped across the street, her heels clacking after him.   
“I mean it,” she snarled. “You’re fucking spoiled.”   
“What, is it a crime to want adventure?”  
“At 40, it is.” Tink sighed, draping an arm around his shoulder. “Loki-“  
“You don’t have to say it, Tink. I know. I’m done.” That truth had come up to meet him that afternoon, written in the ice as he’d planted the side of his chest into it for the third time. He didn’t resent the falling, but the reality was that he couldn’t keep it up for fear of falling apart.   
“Right. So.” She cleared her throat. “If this is your last season, enjoy it. Pour your heart into this victory, and it will be a victory, have some god damn fun. Cause this is all you’re gonna get.”   
“That’s what I’m trying to say, Tinker, I can’t do that. I can’t enjoy it. There’s nothing to excite me, nothing to challenge me. It doesn’t get my blood pumping. I’m the old one in the ring now, I’m the defending champion, and I want to be unseated. I want some young, gorgeous upstart to come out of nowhere and send me reeling, and I want to fight him tooth and nail to win. I want to be on my knees gasping for this competition, and when I do finally win, I want that same upstart at my left shoulder, his eyes piercing into my back, promising ‘I’m gonna get you next year.’”   
The only sound was the wet hum of cars passing them by, and they stood there for so long that the edge of Leto’s pants got wet.   
“Jesus Christ.”  
“What?”  
“Jesus fucking Christ.”  
“What, Tink?”  
“You- I cant believe- there was more sexual tension in that speech than Sam and Frodo had in the lord of the rings! Fuck! You don’t need a competitor, you need a boyfriend!”  
“So what- so maybe I want that same upstart competitor to come to my doorstep, pouring rain plastering his silk shirt to chest and beg me to help him win, and maybe I want to tough-love coach him through five or so gold seasons while we slowly fall for each other over a series of dinners at 2 am after working late, and maybe I want us both to retire to a massive beachside mansion with our winnings and our adopted daughter and a couple cats- but the point is, that’s never going to happen, because no one in the rink will look me in the eyes, and I’m going to grind myself into the ice and retire fucking alone, Tink!”  
Streetlights pinwheeled around him and then Tink had her fists pressed into his chest. “Hey, fucker. Don’t you give up yet, you prima donna. I know you’re lonely, and I know this world is brutal, but you aren’t actually lost to the world yet. You can have love, and you will. For now, focus on the competition, please. I have a feeling it won’t be as boring as you think.” Leto laughed, shoving her away, but then his eyes unfocused, and the city danced around him. “God, Tink, I hope you’re right.”

“I’m just saying he’s a snack and I’m excited to be able to stare at his luscious hair in person.”  
“God, you need a boyfriend.”  
Sophie pulled Tiergan’s hair back from his face, twisting it into a bun. He shoved off the wall, rolling his eyes as she called after him, “You do! This crush is pitiful.”  
“It’s not a crush, Soph, I just admire him. Because he’s talented. And gorgeous.”  
Her laughter followed him to the center of the rink. He set himself up, centering on the point he’d marked out. And then he stayed, poised.  
“Hey. What’s going on. Father!”  
“What? I’m listening.”  
“You sure?” Sophie was leaning over the rail so far that he was tempted to slide over and shove her back up.   
“I am listening, you never call me father, so I know I’m in trouble. What.”  
“Do the jump.”  
“I’m going to fall again.”  
“So fucking what. You remember that documentary we watched? The one where you kept going ‘what does he put in his hair’ repeatedly? Remember how he gave that whole speech about how important it was to fall?”  
“Yeah, it was a load of cliches. I wasn’t listening.”  
“No, you weren’t. What were you thinking?”  
Tiergan crossed his arms. “I was wondering if his eyes were really that crazy shade of indigo in real life.”  
“Right.” Sophie stomped her foot. “Fucking right. And in two weeks, those eyes will be right in front of you, judging your every move. If you want Leto Kerlof to love you, you’ve got to unstick and just go. Do it.”  
Two weeks. And only a single shot to make his dreams come true. The indigo filled him, and he set his jaw.  
“You are right, Sophie-girl. You’re damn right. From the top.”  
“That’s the shit!”  
“And film it!” He shouted over his shoulder, flicking back into place.  
He felt the force of the jump in his heel as he landed. It still wasn’t perfect, but he was still flying. He finished kneeling, sweeping toward Sophie and her phone camera.  
“Leto, that’s for you, honey. You’d better watch out, I’m coming for your crown. In fact,” Sophie’s eyes widened as his lit up, “You said in that documentary that you like knowing your opponents, so... I’m going to be in London on Monday, if you wanna go for a drink.”

“Leto, get your ass up! Get up, this is important!”  
Leto’s eyes were foggy as he pushed his face up out of his pillow. Tinker was bent down in front of him, her eyes snaring him and dragging him into consciousness.  
“Are you up?”  
“Yeah. Wha...”  
“Your ridiculous, unrealistic dreams have come true. Watch.”  
Tink shoved her iPad into his face, and he pushed away, sitting up so he could hold it in his lap. The headline read “American Protégé Tiergan Faevial Challenges Superstar Kerlof.” His lips fell open slightly, and the air he drew in felt very warm. His nail clicked against the screen as he pounded play on the video underneath the article.   
It was breathtaking, genuinely. Leto felt as if he’d fallen from a jump and somehow won a medal for it. His mouth never closed once, and he was constantly gasping and cooing. Tiergan was wild; his blonde tresses barely controlled, his face fierce. His movements had an exquisite brightness to them, as if all his control, his training, was just a facade. As if he was an ember, and all Leto had to do was blow a little and he’d light up.   
“Okay, you’re scaring me. You breathing, man?”  
“Yeah.” Leto’s voice had raised an octave, and he was twisting his blanket between his fingers. “So. Monday. London.”  
“You’re doing it?”  
Leto lunged and grabbed her collar, and she yelled and kicked him back onto the bed. His eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed. “Tinker, I can taste the fucking wine we’re going to drink at our wedding. It’s going to be a peachy rosé. Buy me a plane ticket right god damn now.”  
Tinker laughed heartily, but just as she turned on her heels, he grabbed her wrist. “Wait! I need to respond!”  
“You do?”  
“Cause if he lives in America- where in America?”  
“San Diego, Califor-“  
“California? Hot. We’ll have our honeymoon touring that coast, Ive never been.” Leto took a deep breath. “So if he lives in California, it’s a long ass flight to London, cause that’s fucking...eight hours time difference, so he’s got to get going. So my point is, if I were him, I wouldn’t get on that plane if I thought there was a chance I’d be stood up. Especially since I’m so famous.”   
“Modesty is a virtue.”  
“So I need to respond to him, tell him I’m coming. Do you think he follows my Instagram?” He was scrabbling for his phone, combing his hair erratically with one hand, nails clicking more as he typed the name.   
“Holy fuck, he’s been following me as long as he’s had insta.”  
“Your boy is devoted.”  
Leto threw his phone at her, and dove into his closet. “Where the fuck is my white jacket?”  
“Over on the desk.”  
An hour later, the plane was booked, and Tinker was carefully arranging Leto’s suitcases around his favorite sofa while Daimen finished arranging his hair.  
“Alright, Jesus, you’re a costumer, you aren’t painting the Mona Lisa.”  
“I might as well be, with this face.”  
“Oh god, he’s already egotistical enough, Dai. Shut up.”  
Leto stuck his tongue out at Tinker.  
They settled him amongst the silk cushions and leather-bound suitcases. He watched amiably as his friends fixed lights and folded the curtains and brushed the back of the sofa for the fifth time.   
“Alright, so which direction are we going with this? Flirty?”  
“Pretty flirty, kinda playful too. His was cocky as hell, so I wanna match that, but add a level of, like, refinement to it. Yeah? So like...”  
Leto crossed his legs elegantly, and leaned on the suitcase to his right, tipping his head onto his hand.   
“Oooooh! Oh yes. Super sexy. Ok, now be winking.”  
He parted his lips just a little, closing his right eye.  
“That’s right, boy. Show off my mascara job.”  
Several pictures were taken, and the suitcases were loaded into the car while Leto picked one to post, sweeping out the door with a drunken buzz filling his heart.

“You really need to go to bed.”  
“I don’t know what I was thinking, Prentice. What the fuck did I do? What if he hates me? What if he ignores me? I mean, fucking two days from now?”  
“Yeah, you said.” Prentice sighed. “London. Monday.”   
“First date that popped into my head. God, I’m so stupid.”  
“Jesus.” He shoved Tiergan off his sofa. “You realize we’ve got to get on a plane this afternoon if we’re gonna make it.”  
“He probably won’t even show.” Tiergan draped himself over a chair. “What was I thinking? Why the fuck would Leto god damn Kerlof notice me?”  
Prentice grabbed his wrist, patting his hand. “Don’t be so sure. That video went viral, Tierg. A crazy lot of people have seen it. If he ignores you, the fans will condemn him.”  
“Don’t know if it’s a lot better to get some fucking courtesy email from his manager just so he doesn’t seem like an asshole. Or shit, what if he goes just to be seen doing it and he doesn’t even want to talk. I think I’d die.”  
Prentice opened his mouth to give some comfort, but a squeal from the kitchen interrupted him. Sophie slammed the door open, clutching Tierg’s phone, smile splitting the room.  
“STOP THE PRESSES, WE HAVE A RESPONSE!”  
Prentice snatched the phone from her hand, and Soph tumbled onto Tierg.  
“Oh my god.”  
“Is it good? Please, Jesus, tell me it’s good.”  
“IT’S FANTASTIC!” Soph shrieked.   
Prentice nodded. “It is, in fact, phenomenal.”  
“Son of a bitch, give it.” Tiergan felt fizzy.  
He’d been tagged by his hero in his daily post, which displayed a heart-stoppingly gorgeous Leto reclining against a suitcase, flawless eyelashes accentuating his wink. The image was in black and white, with the deep blue of his eyes over-exposed. Tiergan stopped breathing.   
“READ THE CAPTION.” Sophie popped up over his shoulder.  
‘Evening flight to London, thanks to a certain young American @indigo_idol. Lovely tag, perhaps he likes my eyes? A man can dream ;) See you in England, darling!’  
“Fuck.”  
“Hey mate?” Prentice was grinning. “You alive?”  
“Perhaps he likes my eyes... a man can dream. Dream. He wants me to like his eyes. He wants me to like him. Holy fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuuuuck he wants me to like him. Am I reading too much into this?” Tiergan’s entire body was bubbling, and he felt himself bouncing on his toes. His face hurt from holding its manic grin.  
“ABSOLUTELY NOT! HE WANTS YOU TO LIKE HIM!” Sophie threw them both back onto the sofa, hugging him violently. He laughed, still lightheaded, squeezing her shoulders. Prentice was gasping with laughter. “Alright, you gay fuck. Let’s get going.”  
Sophie was up the stairs before Prentice could pull him off the sofa.  
“I have to post back.” Tierg gasped.  
“Of course you do.”   
“I’m gonna be wearing my best leather jacket, and I’m gonna be leaning against a car window with the lights all glowing behind me and it’s gonna rock.” And he’s going to think I’m beautiful, just like I think he’s beautiful.  
Sophie was stuffing their clothes into suitcases.  
“FUCK YEAH YOU ARE! AND YOU’RE GONNA WEAR JUST A TINY BIT OF LIPSTICK AND LET YOUR HAIR DOWN AND TAKE A PICTURE WITH THE NIGHT SKY AND SAY IT HAS NOTHING ON THE COLOR OF HIS EYES!’ Wait is that too flirty?”  
“I’m doing it.” Tiergan punched the wall lightly. “I’m in too deep now not to flirt as hard as I fucking know how.”  
“Careful.” Prentice warned, chuckling. “Don’t come on too strong.”  
“Oh come on, Prentice, after that pic? Anything goes.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “He added a winky face emoji. Fuck, he looked like a winky face emoji. Who winks that isn’t trying to be flirty.”  
“Old people.” Tierg sniped.  
“Precisely. Not the cultured, gorgeous, Oscar Wilde-quoting Leto Kerlof. Not unless he means it. Dad? Look at me. Please, for the love of god, flirt with him. It’s better to come on too strong and play it off as a joke than to feign disinterest and have him get bored with you. Copy?”  
“That’s a copy.” Tierg nodded firmly. He picked up his phone, and, after biting his lip for a moment, commented a response. “Prentice, book the flight and shit?” He tossed himself onto the bed. “Alright, fashionista, go wild.”  
Tierg’s hair was glistening. His jacket’s collar was flipped up, and he looked out the window so he was held in profile, a gentle smile on his face. Sophie showed him the picture. Deep blue sky, tinged with purple at the horizon, grew out from the car window, as if it was one line. There was just the slightest glint on the window by his eyes. The angle was perfect. Tiergan absently kissed Sophie’s forehead in thanks, hovering over the caption. Eventually, he took a deep breath, squeezed her hand, and posted it. Sophie instantly took the phone away and set it on the floor.  
“No thinking about that till we’re on that plane. The deed is done. And hey, in less than two days, you have a date with Leto Kerlof.”   
Tiergan pressed his forehead into the window, beaming.

Thank the heavens for first class WiFi. Leto had his Instagram open every second, chest tight with anticipation.   
“Honey, it’s 3 AM in California. He probably won’t even see it till we land.”  
“Ok yeah, but what if he does see it? And he responds? I wanna see?”  
Tinker just laughed, shaking her head. Leto scrolled through his feed again.   
And there it was.  
His intake of breath made Tinker look up, eyebrow raised.  
“What is it?”  
He had commented had commented ‘@exquisite_masked_wonder breathless with excitement😍,’ an hour ago, or 2:17 on his time.  
“Oh my little darling, go to bed.” He whispered, but he was burning with the complement. Just as he was about to put his phone down, it nudged at his fingers. He scrabbled to find the post.  
A glowing angle on his face, a contented smile, the deep, radiant blue of the predawn sky making the peach fuzz on his face glow blue. He looked exhausted, and something protective fired in Leto’s chest, but he also looked contented.   
“‘My own flight is at dawn. A little tired, I haven’t slept tonight, but *someone* is worth it. Makes for a beautiful sky, too, but I’m wishing they were your eyes❣️Won’t be long!’”   
He had read the words reverently, barely more than a whisper, and when he finally looked up, Tinker was cackling maniacally.   
“Oh my god. Oh my god, you’re dead. You’re so fucking dead.”  
Leto felt as if he’d been plunged into a warm bath; his muscles relaxed, his head steamed and cozy. He leaned back against the seat, pressing the edge of his coat between his fingers.  
“Fucking god, Leto.”  
“Shut up, Tinker, a bitch is in love, here.” He buried his face in his arms.

From: methodtosomeonesmadness@gmail.com

To: assistanttoregionaldumbass@gmail.com

Prentice Endal,

Apologies for the personal emails, I would rather this correspondence not get lost in my professional inbox, as it pertains to very important affairs. As of yesterday, upon seeing the video posted by your client, mine has been rather permanently affected. To quote the man himself: “a bitch is in love, here.” I was wondering if we, as their close friends, might make life a bit easier for them. I don’t know how invested Tiergan is as of yet, but I know Leto has mentioned a wedding twice. With that in mind, I’m sure you’ve got something booked, but I’ve got him staying at the Gatsby down town, and I would be more than happy to hook you all up with a room there. Tell me what you think!

“Tinker” Sapphrin 

From: assistanttoregionaldumbass@gmail.com

To: methodtosomeonesmadness@gmail.com

Tinker,

It is incredibly comforting to know we’re all on the same page! No worries about the emails, I agree that this, while business, should be kept personal. Tiergan has been dreaming of Leto since he turned thirteen, honestly, so this will be a delight to him. He’s a bit of an anxious thing, but I have a feeling a certain hero of his can set him at ease. We actually hadn’t made hotel reservations, because we were planning to relocate to wherever you guys were staying, so that works wonderfully! I’ll be in contact in a professional vein to schedule all that.   
Rest assured, Tiergan is head over heels. He and his daughter, Sophie, (adopted, of course, age 13) have been giggling over videos of him the whole flight. Does Leto want kids?

Prentice 

“Oh my god Leto he has a kid.”  
“He what?” Leto picked his head up, face bright.  
“He’s got a kid. A daughter, adopted, age 13.”  
“Holy fuck he’s a dream. He’s a dream! It’s- fucking how is he real? Does the girl skate?”  
“No, apparently she wants to be a lawyer.”  
“At thirteen? She’s an icon, that one.”  
“Right? Jesus, I can’t wait to meet her.”  
“Hold on- where are you learning this?” Leto leaned forward on his hands.  
“What? Oh, I’m emailing with his manager. We’re just making sure all the angles are covered and such. No way for this to be bad rep for him, you know.”   
“Oh, yes, of course. Leto leaned back. Take care of my boy.” He giggled.   
Tinker rolled her eyes. “You’re so gay.”  
“Thank you!”  
Leto lazily scrolled through his insta again. Tiergan had posted a sunrise getting on the plane. The afternoon sun through the plane window made the pink flush on Tierg’s face seem so foreign, so delicate.   
‘@indigo_idol you’re up late honey! Get some rest when you touch down! Us champions need their sleep!’  
Leto nearly swooned when the response came immediately.  
‘@exquisite_masked_wonder cant possibly sleep when I’m all worked up with anticipation  
‘@indigo_idol you flatter me, but I’m worried about you! Get! Some! Sleep!’  
‘@exquisite_masked_wonder if you insist, your majesty😆! Want to be at peak performance for you, of course.’  
“Tinkeeeeeer, he said he wanted to be at peak performance for me, I think this is what a heart attack feels like!”  
“Oh my fuck, he said what? Coming on hard, huh?” She gave him a smirk.  
“He will be-“  
“Shut up!” She smacked him, and he subsided, leaning against the window, letting himself imagine sweet-faced Tiergan, wild, strong and radiant, falling asleep against the window of a different plane halfway across the world, who would be so close so soon.

Sunlight on the ice spattered the walls with golden imprints as Tiergan crept down the stairs to the ‘contemporary, olympic-grade skating rink.’ Tiergan was unused to the decadence, and so turned inward, folding his arms across his chest and twisting his laces between his fingers as he traced the edge of the wall. There was already the smooth grating of someone else’s practice, so he opened the smooth double doors cautiously, peeking his head silently around the corner.  
It was him.  
The sight hit Tierg hard, sent him reeling as if his heart was clay, blasting to bits in a kiln. It was actual-in-the-flesh-right-in-fucking-front-of-him Leto Kerlof. And he looked so...raw. His performances were always awe-strikingly gaudy, his outfits expensive and elaborate, his makeup sharp and colorful. Now, he was just wearing a black turtleneck and normal back pants. The sleeves were rolled up. His gloves and skates were ordinary too, even considering the gold borders. His hair fell in a bob around his razor cheekbones, halfway to his shoulders, and was unrestrained and unaltered. Tiergan was struck with how thick his hair naturally was. It floated as he turned, slower than it seemed like it should, highlighting his face, starlit even in full sunlight. And the way he moved, like a water droplet starting and stopping as it traveled down a window pane; no matter his pace he never lost his grace or his presence, and he never really stopped performing for a second.  
Tiergan could practically feel his pupils dilating as he stared, skates lax at his side. He felt as if he were intruding on an intimacy of passion that he didn’t deserve, and he shyly flicked his eyes downward, but they returned to their grip of Leto a second later. He was lazily flipping through his footwork, eyes wandering across the room as he went. As his gaze passed across Tierg’s face, he tipped his head forward just slightly, a little nod. Tiergan took half a step inside the door, halting again as the those eyes met his again, fixed to his face as he fell away, never changing pace.Tierg felt himself slipping into the same rhythm as he stepped down the stairs, as he methodically tied his skates on, as he slid out to counter Leto. He already felt as if he’d been working for hours; cheeks flushed and pounding. The sunlight must have changed angles a bit because Leto’s alabaster cheeks had become rosier as well.   
“Uh-hey.” Tiergan said choppily. He felt his mouth spread into a smile. Leto’s eyes bloomed warmly at the word, and his face curled into an amused smirk.  
“Hello.” His voice was hard silk, liquid glass and gentle diamond. Tiergan felt something pluck in his chest and shiver back like a cello string.  
“Are you happy to see me?” He said, pushing though his crystalline haze to dig into some cockiness.   
Leto was unfazed, of course. “It is an extraordinary pleasure to see you, Tiergan Faevial.”  
His accent lightened the name, bending it over his tongue so that the ‘r’ nearly disappeared. He sucked in some air.   
“I’ve never heard my name said like that.”  
“Oh?” A lilt came into his voice. “How do people usually say it?”  
“I don’t know... it’s not so elegant, mostly.”  
“Not so posh and British, you mean?”  
“Not- it’s elegant. It’s lovely. It’s graceful, and bright, and... pretty. I don’t know.”  
Leto said nothing, but his smirk deepened, displaying soft dimples at the edges of his mouth. Tiergan felt himself overheating, and he unconsciously pulled at the zipper on his jacket. “I’m sorry, I’m not at all eloquent.”  
Leto’s head tipped in surprise, as if he’d been struck on the cheek. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Tiergan. I left you all alone talking, and you must have gotten anxious, only- I was just studying the light on your hair. It looked so divine just then. All creamy and flaxen.”   
Well fuck.  
“That’s funny,” he found himself saying, “because I was only just thinking as I came in how amazingly rare it is for someone, no matter who, to see you in your own natural splendor. And how blessed I am to be able to see it.” He almost reached out to touch a thick obsidian strand, his fingers flinched with the want of it, but he let the feeling go.  
Leto ran a hand across the inside of his other wrist, smiling out at the sun for a minute, his face taking on even more pink than before. The dawn light suited him, making his pale skin take on every tone of the sun. When he turned back to Tiergan, his eyes, with all their irresistible twilight contrast, had a glaze of intense glee he hadn’t seen even in his fantasies.   
“You landed the quad heavy in that video. The execution was good, but you weren’t entirely sure of where to put your weight and it showed. Do that a couple more times and you’ll break your ankle.”  
Tiergan raised an eyebrow. “Is this how you flirt?”  
Leto rolled his eyes and flicked Tierg’s arm. “I’ve been flirting, honey. This is how I make friends.”  
“Well then, pal, would you mind showing me how it’s done?”  
“If you promise never to disgrace that lovely mouth with the word ‘pal’ again.”  
“Oh my god, you really are pretentious.”  
“I’m cultured.” Leto pushed away.   
“Snobbish.” Tiergan leaned against the rail, taking care to settle his hair over his shoulder.  
“The fact that you said snobbish makes you sound rather high and mighty yourself.”  
“Just trying to fit in.”  
“No you aren’t.” Suddenly he was serious again. “You take pride in standing out.”  
“Only from far away.” Tiergan dipped his head. “I wouldn’t like to be scrutinized.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course not.” Leto seemed stricken.  
“Oh! That’s not-not what I meant. You’re being wonderfully flattering. It’s...nice. Just don’t usually. Let myself be watched like this.”  
“Well, it’s an honor.” His voice was soft, delicate. Taking on a playful tilt, he said, “I’m used to being looked at. Scrutinize away.”  
“Are you?”  
“What?”  
Tiergan pushed off the wall. “Like I said earlier, this isn’t anything like how most people see you. You’re always so... done up and decorated. It’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, you always look beautiful, and the masks don’t distance the emotions, not really, it’s just- I don’t know what point I’m trying to make. Sorry for psychoanalyzing, only you interest me.”  
He’d gone still again. “I don’t think there’s anything quite so flattering as your interest in the world.” A sigh, like a petal drifting off a rose. “You’re right that I hide.”  
He didn’t say anything more, but he held Tiergan’s gaze for a long moment. It felt as if something had been tied between them. It wasn’t strong yet, but it was beautiful. Tiergan resolved to cherish it.  
“You aren’t getting out of giving me a lesson, you know.” He teased, and Leto shook his head. His hair rippled.  
“Why would I want to?”  
Sophie slammed the doors open. “Hey, Dad! Did you find- OH.” Her eyes widened. Leto gave her a wry smile. “Me? Yes, Miss, he found me.”  
“I can see that.” She was still staring. “You’re even prettier than on the poster.”  
“You have a poster?” He whirled whirled on Tierg, who dropped his head shyly.  
“Yeah!” Sophie said. “It’s the one from your third senior year. The galaxy one.”  
Leto raised his eyebrows. “That was definitely a good one. My hair was longer back then.” He twirled a lock of it absently. Then he reached into a pocket and tossed a key ring at Sophie. She let it fall right at her feet and scooped it into her hands.  
“Can you go put some music on, Miss?” Leto asked, gesturing to the booth.  
“Sure!” Sophie bounded off and disappeared through the door at the top of the stands.  
“Any song requests?” Her voice fell from the speakers now. Before Tiergan could speak, Leto laughed. “Play Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande.”  
“Really?” She sounded delighted.   
“Hell yeah!” He called. “Wait, should I curse? How old is she? I know Tink told me...” He glanced over his shoulder at Tierg.   
“She’s 13, and trust me, she’s heard all the bad words.”  
“Right! That’s fine then. TURN IT THE FUCK UP, GIRL!”  
“I LOVE HIM DAD!” Sophie returned, and the music was pounding. Tiergan took advantage of the music to calm his breaths and center himself. If he was going to work he’d need to stop being so-  
Leto flickered across the ice, strong flares of movement drawing his attention. He spread his arms, showing off to Sophie. “Do something cool!” She called. He tipped his head in mock consideration, but Tierg could see that he was already pushing himself up into a jump. Sure enough, he’d never seen a triple axel performed with so little care. There was relaxed power in his every movement, as if his grace was effortless. Sophie applauded him, and he made another sweeping circuit, arms out, brushing Tierg’s shoulder as he passed. Falling out of his trance, Tiergan fell into step with him, chasing him around until he started a spin, and then mimicked him. When he straightened up, Leto was watching him, a satisfied grin on his face. He nodded once, pleased, and swirled off again. The two circled each other, as the music swelled. Tiergan met Leto’s eyes across the arena, leaving trails of light behind them. Suddenly, he lifted a hand, and Tiergan slid to a stop. Leto was setting himself up for something.   
“I’ve never shown anyone this before.” He called.  
“How thrilling!” Tierg answered, sliding back.  
At the top of the ring, Leto gathered speed and dropped to a knee, arching his back towards the ice and dragging a perfectly angled hand delicately across the ice. A film of dust parted and rose under his finger tips.   
His hair gathered the dust, frosting over as he tipped it back.   
His eyes were mostly closed; he was biting his lip as he concentrated.   
In a single rainbow of movement he was standing again, two solid strides, and then he was off the ice again, carving another flawless shape from the air, before landing delicately. Incredible. This was why Leto won as much as he did. How could a living being find fault here?   
“Just a little showing off.” Leto said jokingly.  
“Why hasn’t anyone seen that? It was fucking incredible!” Tiergan was sure there were hearts in his eyes.   
Leto went quiet. He clasped and unclasped his hands in front of him. Nervous, Tiergan opened his mouth to apologize, or move on, but then Leto spoke.  
“There’s too much me in it.”  
“Yeah? And that’s bad?”  
Leto didn’t speak. The thread was stretching, threatening to break.  
“Thank you for being so...open with me. Every bit is precious. And that routine was breathtaking.”  
“Thank you.” He sighed lightly. “I wanted so badly for you to be special. I’m relieved that you are.”  
Tiergan didn’t question that, but he smiled. He held out a hand, and Leto clasped it, briefly. 

“And then, and then! Fucker walks back over to me, grabs the drink out of my hand, and goes, ‘sorry, I thought you were a girl. I’m not gAy or anything.’”  
“Oh my fucking god!” Tiergan put his head in his hands, gasping.   
“Right? I couldn’t believe it. So his girlfriend comes over, and she’s like, ‘this is the guy you bought a drink for?’ And I’m like ‘yeah, but don’t worry, he thought I was a girl. He’s not gay or anything.’ And the girl goes ‘oh, of course not. But it’s fine if he was buying a drink for a girl. That’s fine. Cause he’s not gay.’ And I’m like ‘totally. Cheating? Fine. At least he iSnT gAy.’ And we’re both just cracking up, and everyone around us is cracking up, and the guy is just standing there. He’s got this stupid fucking face like, like a fucking pug, he’s wrinkling his nose so hard, and she goes ‘well guess what, bitch? We’re done. Cause you might not be gay, but I AM!’”  
“AMAZING!” Tiergan couldn’t see from laughing. He tried to sip his champagne, and tipped some of it onto the table. Leto reached over and sloppily swept the drops away with his napkin.   
“Yeah, so that’s how I met Tink.”  
“Amazing....oh my god.....” He dizzily tipped back against the booth, and Leto leaned on his hand so his fingers ruffled his hair, still giggling. He poured them each the last of the champagne. Tiergan couldn’t seem to wrap his hand around the glass.   
“Help meee, I can’t lift the glass.”   
Leto placed each of his fingers in place with exaggerated care, gently tipping the glass to his mouth, giggling. Tiergan leaned into the touch for as long as he could, and when Leto leaned back again he was blushing.   
“Where’d you get Sophie from?” His voice was quiet and deep. Tiergan sighed a little.  
“Her mom died. A college friend of mine. She always said I was like her younger brother, so...”  
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry.”   
“There wasn’t anywhere else for her to go. Oralie was very brave, didn’t have much of anyone. I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m not even old enough to have a 13 year old child, but... we do our best. She’s strong.”   
Leto’s hand pressed into the top of his. “You both are.”  
Tiergan smiled. “Prentice is around, he helps. He’s got a son who’s starting college, so he actually knows what to do.”  
“Yeah...”   
They sat quietly for a minute.   
“I’ve always wanted a daughter. Never had much of anyone but Tink, myself.”  
“I’ll share.” Tiergan joked, and Leto gave him the full focus of his smile, making him gasp.  
“I’ve said it a thousand times tonight, but you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
“Yeah?” Leto brushed a finger down Tierg’s nose. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”  
They both giggled again, and their faces neatly touched.   
“Excuse me, sirs, but this location is about to close.”  
“Oh FUCK! What time is it?” Tiergan scrambled for his phone.   
“11:50, sir.”  
“Oh shit I told-“ he broke off giggling- “I told Soph I’d be back by ten.”  
“Hah!” Leto shoved him. “What a great parent you are. Is she alone at the hotel?”  
“‘Alone at the Gatsby’ is a contradictory phrase.”  
“Oh my god we need to go.” Leto excitedly dragged Tiergan to his feet, leading him to the door. “Taxi, please!”  
Tiergan leaned on his arm all the way home, head fluffy.

Their rooms were directly across from each other, at the end of a massive hallway on the 115th floor. While Tiergan checked on Sophie and sorted some things out with his manager, Leto undressed and settled himself in for the evening. It had been a dream of a day; the majority of it was spent walking arm in arm with Tiergan, laughing and telling stories and buying stupid little souvenirs and eating pastries. They’d gone for dinner, and had had waaaay too much champagne, that much was clear from a little introspection, and now if Leto craned his neck he could see Tierg in the doorway of his room, playfully arguing with Prentice about his schedule for the next couple weeks. He felt so... secure. On a whim, he fixed his hair in the mirror and stepped out into the hallway. Tiergan turned to him.   
“‘Ello, sir! Are we keeping you up with our childish antics?”  
“No, sir, not at all, I simply couldn’t bear to hear you without seeing you.”  
Prentice glanced between them and booked it.  
Tiergan turned completely to face him, half-pulling his door closed. He smiled up at Leto.   
“You want to come in for a bit? Sophie won’t mind.”  
“No more drinks, Jesus, I think I’ll die.”  
“Oh no! No, Prentice took all my alcohol. But some cocoa? A movie? We don’t have to be up for anything...” he seemed to suddenly doubt himself. “It has been a long day, though, a wonderful one! But I just mean I’d understand if you- wanted to sleep...”  
“I’ll come in. I’d love to.” Tiergan beamed, and squeezed his hand.   
“HE’S COMING?” Sophie shouted.  
“Shhh, Miss, you’ll wake the gods.” Leto teased, sweeping into the room.   
“Sorry.” She answered with a defined stage whisper. She was nestled into the middle of the bed, flipping through a comic book. Tiergan flopped down besides her, idly nudging her hair out of her face. She looked up at Leto, patting the bed beside her. “C’mon. We let you in. Come sit.”  
Leto reclined carefully on the bed, raising an eyebrow at her. “It’s a little late for you, even if you are a teenager.”  
“Oh for sure. This is a special occasion.”   
“What occasion?”  
“Dad has a date.”  
Leto blushed, but when he saw how embarrassed Tierg was he laughed lightly. “A rare event, then?” He winked at Tierg and he relaxed some.   
“You have no idea.”

“Oh my god, honey, no, that doesn’t look good on you!” Leto slammed his palm into the bed, making Tiergan and Sophie burst into laughing.   
“Doesn’t look that bad...” she argued.  
“Yes it does, child. Look, just look at the way it bunches around her shoulders. No! No, no, and no. She should get the mermaid.”  
“Her mom doesn’t like the mermaid.”  
“Fuck her mom! She isn’t getting married!”  
Tierg touched his shoulder casually. “Quite the expert on dresses, huh?”  
“I’m an expert on looking hot, darling.”  
“That I won’t argue with.” Tiergan smirked, and Leto winked at him.  
“No flirting around the child!” Sophie shoved at Leto’s leg. “I’m innocent!” She wasn’t shy with him anymore. After two whole seasons of sarcastic commentary over Say Yes To The Dress, she had warmed right up.   
“You say fuck constantly.” Tierg remarked.  
“More of a statement about your parenting than anything else, yeah?”   
“Fuck off.”  
“See?”  
Tiergan rolled his eyes.  
Sophie yawned, half rolling off the bed.   
“Ok, dad and dad’s crush, it’s like 4 am. Goodnight.”  
“I-“ Tierg started. “Goodnight, Sophie.”  
Sophie smiled at Leto, and he flicked one of her curls. “Goodnight, Miss.”  
“Night, super awesome famous guy.”  
She retreated to her side of the suite, closing the door behind her.  
Leto let his eyes follow Tiergan, as he clicked off the TV and shoved the snacks back into the fridge. He watched him stand in front of a mirror for a minute, combing his hair with his fingers. Their eyes met in the mirror. Tiergan’s eyes were rich, they echoed with the touches they’d shared, the laughter, the traded breathless stares.   
As if sleepwalking, Leto stood, and leaned just a little over Tiergan’s shoulder. They watched themselves in the mirror.  
Their faces were very close together. Everything felt distant and hot, sounds sharply defined and colors distinctive as if remembering them already.  
“I don’t think I’ve ever fallen this hard before.” He was aware of the pitch of his voice as it whispered past Tiergan’s hair towards the mirror.  
“Neither have I,” he murmured, tipping his head back towards Leto’s. Their noses brushed together. 

Leto stared at the ceiling. His bed consumed him, the whirring of the air conditioning felt oppressive. It was too much. It had been too much.   
What am I doing? I’m not ready for this.  
It’s too soon.  
And I’m going to have to see him again.  
Poor Tiergan will be so hurt. So anxious. He’ll prey on us. I’ll panic and abandon Tiergan again.  
The sheets were suddenly too rough for his skin. The darkness shoved its weight into his chest. He didn’t move, couldn’t even shut his eyes.   
Too much. Too fast.  
When he did shut his eyes the blond hair, the blue eyes, the warm touches he was greeted with weren’t Tiergan’s. He opened his eyes again, nearly gasping in terror.  
Well, he reasoned, as he stumbled towards the bathroom for a melatonin, obviously this is too much. I’ll have to take a step back from him and hope he understands.   
Especially since I’ll see the other one tomorrow too.


End file.
